


Movie Night

by laugh_a_latte



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Angst, But more hurt than comfort in this one, High School Musical References, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Movie Night, Post-Squip, sad boys, why did I write this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-15 20:52:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18677194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laugh_a_latte/pseuds/laugh_a_latte
Summary: Sometimes odd things set off whatever bit of Squip is still inside Jeremy. Usually Michael can deal, but sometimes it's just a little too much.





	Movie Night

**Author's Note:**

> Did I just write three one shots in three days . . . Yes, I did.  
> I should get a life.  
> But who needs a life when you have fanfiction?

Michael is sitting in Brooke’s bedroom on the floor with a very strong feeling that he shouldn’t be there. It’s not that he’s not welcome, the opposite, really, it’s just that this is an unfamiliar house and he’s sitting on an unfamiliar carpet surrounded by very familiar people, but not for the right reasons. Rich and Jake and Chloe are familiar former bullies. Jenna once spread rumors about Michael, which Michael isn’t too upset about anymore. After all, it’s easy to spread rumors about the weird kid, and it’s not like he ever tried to be anything but weird. But _himself._

His eyes slide to Christine, familiar for being Jeremy’s first gigantic, world-stopping crush, who is sandwiched between Brooke and Jenna, watching the TV upside down. He always admired Christine because she was openly weird, just like him. He watches her try to drink La Croix without sitting up, and it goes up her nose. Michael approves. He never really talked to her before, though. Didn’t have a reason to.

Brooke, who is now whacking Christine on the back as she snorts and coughs, is familiar because Jeremy spent a solid month by her side instead of Michael’s, but she’s never been outwardly hostile towards him. In fact, she’s the only person here, other than Jeremy and Christine, who smiled back at him in the hallway sometimes, back before the Squip turned everyone here into Jeremy’s friend. 

So were they Michael’s friends now, too? No, that didn’t seem right. It was more of an association thing. Like, if you’re friends with Jeremy then you get Michael as a part of the package deal. Befriend one, get one free.

Michael snorts into his soda. No one hears him. They're too busy being gripped by the final scene of _High School Musical_ as it flashes across the TV. But Michael's not paying attention.

Michael’s never been to a sleepover with anyone other than Jeremy. He wonders why people even bothered with them. Unless it involves Jeremy, pot, and vintage games that glitch out every twenty minutes, Michael’s not interested, because this is just awkward.

If it was anywhere other than Brooke’s house, possibly Christine’s, he wouldn’t have gone.

Well, maybe he would have, if Jeremy went, because if he didn’t go he’d be in his basement all alone and nothing good ever came from that.

“I still can’t believe you’ve never seen _High School Musical,_ ” Brooke teases again for the millionth time to Rich, who shrugs.

“Just never seemed interesting to me,” Rich retorts. "And I'm right, that was so predictable!" He glances at Jake. “Back me up here, man.”

“Sorry, dude, I’m with Brooke,” Jake drawls. “Troy was like my hero as a kid.”

“I can’t believe this!” Rich throws his arms in the air, shouting over Christine and Jenna’s very loud singing over the end credits. "It wasn't even good!"

“ _Everyone_ loves _High School Musical_ ,” Chloe rolls her eyes.

"Rich, your mistake was telling them you haven't seen it," Jenna shouts. "Shoulda just pretended!"

"Rookie mistake!" Christine agrees between verses.

Michael stays quiet next to Jeremy. He’s never seen _High School Musical_. He knows Jeremy hasn’t, either, because it came out during their Spider-Man phase, and who would watch high school drama when you had Spider-Man? Michael glances over, ready to whisper some smirky comment about it in Jeremy’s ear, but stops short. Jeremy’s staring at the wall above Rich’s head. His straw, which Brooke insisted everyone use (because “it’s better for your teeth than drinking straight from the can!”) is hanging from his lips, the end dripping Diet Coke back into the can. 

Michael looks at Jeremy’s eyes, which are focused. Which is a Bad Sign. Blank staring Jeremy isn’t ideal, either, but not as worrying as when Jeremy is staring at something that isn’t there, and Michael doubts he’s staring at the wall because of some newfound fascination with yellow paint. Michael touches Jeremy’s elbow. Jeremy shakes his head once at the wall, his brow coming together.

“Jeremy?” Michael says. Christine and Jenna are singing so loud and Chloe, Brooke, and Jake are too busy mocking Rich to notice them, anyways.

Jeremy slowly turns his gaze to his elbow, then up at Michael. But, something’s not quite right. His eyes aren’t focused on Michael. He looks back down at his elbow, and gets this freaked out look on his face. Okay, this is happening. Michael tugs at Jeremy’s arm, pulling him to standing as Jeremy blinks rapidly somewhere beyond Michael.

“Where are you two going?” Jenna yells over the noise.

“Kitchen!” Michael yells back, throwing up a peace sign and half smile before shoving Jeremy out of Brooke’s room.

The door closes behind them and Michael pulls Jeremy's elbow, leading him to the dimly lit kitchen. The faint smell of burnt popcorn stings his nose. He spins around to see Jeremy looking at him in the eye, albeit still freaked. Michael breathes a sigh of relief.

“Michael?”

“So, High School Musical, huh?” says Michael, casually as possible, trying not to let the weirdness of this particular Squip set-off creep into his voice. He drops his hand from Jeremy’s elbow. It doesn’t quite reach his side before before Jeremy’s on him, arms wrapped tightly around his back.

Michael freezes, but only for a second. He recovers quickly from the very sudden, very unexpected contact when he hears Jeremy’s empty soda can skid across the floor. Michael doesn’t _like_ sudden, unexpected contact, and fights back the urge to pull away, because that would upset Jeremy more, and Jeremy needs _him_ right now. Instead, he suppresses the discomfort and holds Jeremy. Jeremy’s shaking.

“You’re real,” Jeremy mumbles into his hoodie.

“Yeah, bud,” Michael swallows.

“For a second you—” Jeremy shudders. “It . . It’s not real.”

“No, no, it’s not real.”

“You’re real.”

Jeremy lets go of Michael, to Michael’s guilty relief. Jeremy’s looking at Michael’s shoes. He’s processing something. Michael waits, unspeaking, resisting the urge to tug at his bracelets or his hoodie strings or anything that could betray how unnerved he is.

Jeremy’s unfocused gaze when he looked at Michael, his panic at Michael’s touch . . .

Did Jeremy really just . . . Just not see him? 

This tightness comes over his chest again as he processes what just happened, now that Jeremy’s crisis mode is averted.

What _was_ that?

 _It’s not his fault. It’s not his fault. It’s the Squip, not him. It’s not him._ Michael repeats over and over in his brain. His new mantra these days. He feels his fingers pull at his bracelet.

It’s a Squip Thing, not a Jeremy thing. Michael knows this, though it’s becoming harder to tell them apart.

The rumble of the refrigerator ice machine startles Michael out of his thoughts. The warm light and buzz of cicadas outside wash over him, bringing him back to Brooke’s kitchen. Jeremy’s looking at him now.

Michael looks back at Jeremy, trying to quell his emotions.

“I don’t-I don’t know why—” Jeremy lifts his hand to touch Michael, sudden and unexpected. Michael flinches back before he can stop himself. Jeremy pulls his hand back as if burnt, and this awful hurt passes through his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Michael says quickly, pulling at a bracelet so suddenly it snaps. Michael hears the sounds of dozens of onyx beads scatter across the floor. Michael’s breath hitches at the noise. Jeremy looks like someone just killed a kitten in front of his eyes.

And for this awful split second, Michael feels a white hot fury wash over him. He shouldn't have to deal with this. He balls up the broken elastic and shoves it in his pocket, pulling his sleeves down hard as the second passes. Even one bracelet gone makes him feel exposed, and his sudden fury fades away into regret that he even felt it in the first place. 

He'll deal with this. He can.

Michael repeats his mantra in his head until he can speak neutrally.

“It was an old one, anyways, it doesn’t matter,” he says as he starts picking up the mess. He counts the beads as he picks them up. 

“Michael, I’m sorry,” Jeremy says, voice pitched oddly. Michael does not like that. He keeps picking up beads. Jeremy joins him. Michael breathes.

“I know it’s not you,” Michael says, after all the beads are picked up and safely in his pocket. He looks around the kitchen floor and sees Jeremy’s empty soda can. He picks that up, too.

“I don’t kn-know why that happened.”

The straw. The straw is gone.

“I know.” Michael looks under the table.

“I didn’t-I couldn’t . . .”

“You don’t need to explain yourself.” Michael looks behind the trash bin.

“Michael.”

Michael sees it laying next to the pantry. His eyes sting.

“Michael.”

“Yeah, bud?” Michael squats down to pick it up. It’s sticky.

“Can you look at me?”

Michael stands and glances out the window with a fleeting amazement at how well kept Brooke’s lawn is.

“Let’s go back to Brooke’s room, yeah?” Michael offers, pulling his gaze away from the lawn.

“Michael, I’m so sorry.”

“I know, man,” Michael replies, throwing a half smile at Jeremy. He doesn’t meet his eyes. He knows what Jeremy wants to hear, but Michael can’t bring himself to say it. “Me too.” 

He’s never been good at lying.

**Author's Note:**

> (Comments/constructive criticism/feedback of all kinds greatly appreciated)  
> Thank you for reading~! <3


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